The Daughter - C.B. Cooper (red novels txt) 📗

sailed down the street.
The big sign above the Gold Rush was torn from its hinges and flung across the street. It sailed over the crowd, spinning sideways, heading straight for Jarvis.
By the time Jarvis seen it coming, it was spinning so fast that the edges were blurred, making the rectangle sign, look like one of the big sharp blades down at the wood mill on the edge of town.
He didn't even have time to scream, he just threw himself sideways at the last moment, landing on the boardwalk with a heavy grunt.
Behind him he heard the object crash into the wall where he had just been standing.
Down in the crowd, Sam was still clutching his hat with both hands in an effort to keep it on his head. Turning towards Zeb, he stopped.
Zeb was standing there with a stunned look on his face. The shock of white hair on his head stood up straight, all over in a crazy mess. "My hat," he moaned weakly.
Jarvis rolled over, laying flat on his back, trying to catch his breath.
Adams came and stood over him, seemingly unconcerned. "Your lucky. That sign just about cut your fucking head off." Lending him a hand, Adams helped him up.
Once he was on his feet, Adams looked from the half burried sign, to Jarvis who stood next to it, gawking. Reaching out, he lined the edge of his hand up with the edge of the protruding wood, then followed a straight line over, right to Jarvis's adams apple.
Angry, Jarvis knocked his hand away, then rubbed his neck, gulping. The image of the woman from the previous night filled his head. The way she had motioned with her hand… "Come on," he snapped, "lets get back to the hotel."
He had only taken a few steps when he stopped, the skin on his scalp prickling. He listened hard while this eyes scanned the dusty street, then he heard it again. The soft sound of a woman's laugher, floating on the wind, mocking him.
"What's wrong?"
"Did you hear that?"
Adams frowned, "Hear what?"
Jarvis listened a moment longer, then shook his head, "Nothing. Lets go."
Sam and Zeb joined the crowd of people that were heading south towards the edge of town and beyond. They split up, Sam taking the right and Zeb taking the left, they searched every nook and crannie in town, then joined back up at the edge of town.
"Any luck?" Zeb asked.
"Nope. We'll have to start checking the woods.
They spent the better part of the next two hours beating the brush. They looked high and low, but in the end, they both came up empty handed.
Zeb grumbled on their way back to town, "I cant believe we didn’t find it. I've had that hat for twenty years or better."
Sam smiled down at his gloomy friend, "Yeah, and it smelled like it too. Every time it rained, I thought we were being followed by a pack of stinky skunk-sprayed coyotes."
"Hey," Zeb scolded, "Don’t ya know yer not suppose to poke fun at another man's hat. That’s jest bad manner's, Boy."
Sharp laughed, then after a moments thought, grew serious again and asked, "Have you ever seen anything like that Zeb?"
Zeb grunted, "You mean that storm springing' up so sudden like? Not in all my living years."
Sharp frowed, "That's what I thought."
"That was like a god damn explosion. For a second there, I thought somebody lit off a hundred pounds of dynamite right in the middle of town."
"I know. Hell, it blew all of the glass right out of the windows."
"Ya know, I've heard of spinners. They happen over in Kansas and Nebraska. They're huge clouds that come down and run along the ground, spinning like a top. They chew up everything in their path, pulling trees out of the ground by their roots and rolling giant boulders the size of houses around like a kids marbles. They can rip a full grown man and his horse off of the ground and throw them through the air like rag dolls."
Sharp frowned, deep in thought, "I don’t think it was a spinner."
"Hell no, it wasn’t. Remember how hard the wind was blowin' before the meeting, then all of a sudden it stopped? It was like someone had put up a wall, damning the wind off."
Sharp nodded his head, "And did you hear that strange whistle right before it came back?"
"Yep, like the damn was getting ready to break. I bet that’s what happened. Something was holding the wind back, but all of that air built up pressure, then Bam…" Zeb's next words sent a chill down Sam's spine, "Well, whatever it was, it weren't natural, that’s fer sure."

Adams watched Jarvis pace the floors, much like he had been doing all day. I made him tired just watching.
"I cant believe they haven't found her yet," he muttered.
Adams sighed, "Well, we know one thing for sure— she aint in town. Those men scoured every inch of this place. Hell, two different groups of men even went as far as to crawl under all the buildings. They started on one end of town and worked their way to the other. One old boy got stuck under the dry goods store, and it took five men with shovels and rakes, three hours to dig him out."
Jarvis rubbed his eyes. They were bloodshot red and burned like the dickens. "I'm tired. I think I'm ready to call it a day."
Adams stood, stretching the muscles in his back, "Me too."
On their way up stairs, Adams slapped his partner on the back, "Don’t worry, they'll find her tomorrow."
"You think so?"
"There's a ten thousand dollar price tag on her head, George. If she's within a hundred miles— they'll find her."
As tired as Jarvis was, he spent a good hour, tossing and turning. He had finally fallen into a restless sleep, when a knock sounded at the door.
Instantly awake, he grabbed the loaded pistol off of his nightstand. "Yeah, what is it?"
Tom Coulter's muffled voice came through the door, "Boss, there's something downstairs that I think you should see."
Jumping out of bed, he yanked his pants on, thumbing his suspenders over his shoulders while he shoved his feet into his boots.
Jerking open the door, he asked, "Whats going on? Did they find her?"
Tom looked worried, his eyebrows drawn together and his mustache curving down more than usual, "Um, I think you'd better come see for yourself."
Jarvis followed Coulter downstairs and out the front door.
In the street, backed up against the steps, a wagon bed with a sheet covered body lying in the back, was parked. Next to that, a man stood with his horse, a dead body draped across the saddle.
"What's going on here?" Jarvis demanded roughly.
The man with the wagon stepped forward, his hat in his hands, "I got her, Mr. Jarvis. I got that woman that you wanted."
"No you didn’t— I did!" cried the man with the horse.
Jarvis glared at them both, but his pulse quickened, "Let me see who's in your wagon."
"Yes sir." The man grabbed the edge of the sheet as the man with the horse stepped forward to get a peek. The sheet was thrown off, reveiling a plump woman in an old faded black dress. One side of her head was missing where a bullet that had passed through her brain and had exploded out the other side.
"That aint the woman he's lookin' for! That’s your wife, you dumbshit!" the other man cried. "I just done seen you in town with her today!"
The mans face reddened in anger. "Well, lets see who you got!" he yelled stomping over to the horse. He grabbed a hand full of dark hair and yanked the womans head up. "And this is your wife, you dumbshit. I've seen you with her before!"
The man with the horse threw the first punch, then they were both on the ground, rolling back and forth, pummeling the shit out of each other.
Jarvis grabbed his pistol and fired a few rounds into the air. Both men ceased their fighting and looked up at him from the ground.
"Your both dumbshit's! You men killed your wives?" he asked incredibly. "What in the hell is wrong with you two?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another man ride up, stopping about twenty feet away.
"You three pass the word!" he shouted. "The next man that brings me their dead wife, gets a bullet right between their fucking eyes!"
The man who had just rode up, slowly began backing his horse away.
Jarvis shouted, turning on him, "What in the hell do you want?"
"Uhh, nothing sir. I was just stopping to see what all the fuss was about." he laughed nervously.
"This ain't no fucking peep show! Now get the hell out of here!"
The man gulped, "Yes, sir."
When he turned to leave, Jarvis caught sight of a woman thrown over the ass end of the man's horse. A shock of wheat colored hair flowed almost to the ground.
"God damn it!" he shouted, stomping his foot. "What in the hell is wrong with you people!"
Adams chuckled behind him. He had just walked out the front door, but he'd heard everything through the open door on his way down the stairs.
"This aint funny!" Jarvis exploded. "Now we got men killing their own wives just to get the reward!"
"A, ten thousand dollar, reward." Adams reminded him. "Money makes people do crazy things, George." he smiled, then laughed again.
"What in the hell is so funny?" Jarvis demanded.
"What's so funny is— if the tables were reversed, we would have been the first ones to try that trick."
Jarvis wanted to stay mad, but he couldn’t. His partner was right. They would have been the first ones, and they probably would have gotten away with it. They hadn't gotten this far in life by being stupid, just greedy.
Smiling, he shook his head. "You men get those women out of here."

Sleep didn’t come easy again. Jarvis tossed and turned for the second time that night. He was watching the black night slowly lift as the sun started to come up, when he was finally able to drift off again.
A knock sounded at the door, bringing him slowly out of his sleep. Grogily, he rolled over, trying to ignore the annoying sound. When the knocking grew louder and more insistent, he grabbed a pillow and stuffed it over his head.
When the person on the other side started banging on the door, Jarvis kicked off his blankets in a fit. "What! What the fuck do you want now?"
"Umm, Boss? I think you should come down stairs."
"Again!" he yelled. "What is it time? Dead whores? Dead men dressed like women?"
"No, but I think you should see it. People are gathering in the street. We need to do something quick."

Jarvis and Adam's stood on the boardwalk in front of The Royal, their mouths open in shock.
"Are those men the ones I think they are?" Adams whispered.
"Yeah, I believe so."
Out in the street, six foot tall stakes stuck up out of the dirt. Mounted on the top of each, were three severed heads.
The townsfolk had all gathered, and they were all staring in awe and horror at the macabre spectacle, too.
"Who would do that?" Adams whispered beside him.
"It's that woman, I tell you."
"What do you suppose is on that piece of paper?"
A white piece of paper had been tacked to the post in the middle, right below the